Not Another Star of David Story!
by thegirloverhere
Summary: Oh no! I couldn't resist. I mixed my three favorite things: Tiva, the reversal of clishes, and The Breakfast Club to create senseless, whimsical fluff that makes me smile :
1. Chapter 1

***=The Breakfast Club quote**

****=NCIS quote**

**See, I don't steal! **

**None of the pretty characters are mine either... :[**

Tony looked at the tree and smiled. He knew it was sad, fake Christmas trees were so corny, but they were easier to store, transfer, set up, keep alive… and he did not need pine needles littering up his apartment.

He always felt sort of silly setting up the tree. But once he was done he was glad it was there. He never had a Christmas tree when he was younger. Maybe when his mom was still alive, but he couldn't really remember that. He did remember being left over Christmas break at countless boarding schools, in which Christmas trees were towering gold and green and white figures in the head master's parlor or skimpy, tinsel covered bushes in the dorm lobby. Intimidating or depressing. Untouchable or pissed on to the extent that you didn't want to touch it, nonetheless go within ten feet of it.

So once he had his own apartment, Tony decided that hey, if he wanted a stupid Christmas tree, and a good one, who was there to stop him?

--

Tony kicked his legs up on his desk and looked across at Ziva. Raising up the air guitar, he sang the opening chords of "Sunshine of Your Love."

Ziva glanced up, and then looked back at her work.

Suddenly Tony sat up straight. He felt a smirk forming, but he held it back, and tried to look as earnest as possible as he said, "What are we supposed to do if we have to take a piss?" *

Ziva looked up, eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head and leaned forward, as if she was amazed by what she had heard. "What?"

It was Tony's turn to shake his head. Mimicking reaching for his fly he said "When you gotta go, you gotta go."*

Tilting her head, Ziva's look became reproachful. "You wouldn't."

Something hit Tony hard against the back of his head. "He wouldn't." Gibbs agreed, before breezing past them. Tony rubbed the back of his head, smirk turning into a snarl. Before he could let the bitter Gibb's-smack get the better of him, he informed Ziva. "_The Breakfast Club_." She blinked up at him, but showed no emotion or incentive to speak. "You know – Judd Nealson? Molly Ringwald? Emilio Estevez? Anthony Michael Hall? Ally Sheedy?"

A grin spread across her face. "Ah. Ally Sheedy. She was in War Games, yes?"

"You would know her," Tony said, leaning back in his chair.

Ziva stood up, walking over to his desk in three fluid strides. She was so graceful for being so strong. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Tony smirked. "Well, she is 'the basketcase' after all."

"I look nothing like a laundry hamper," Ziva gasped at Tony with wide eyes, "And neither does she!"

"No. It means… like a freak. Or some one who is a bit…" Tony made a face and a few hand gestures "loco."

Ziva tilted her head. "But what has that do with a basket?"

Tony shrugged. "Ask McGeek."

--

"Careful, or I'll take your present back,"** Tony said with a glance across the bullpen.

"We have a rule, remember? No presents,"** Ziva reminded him quickly.

"But if I had gotten you one, you'd be sorry."**

--

Tony glanced up periodically, making sure Ziva hadn't left. The little ninja was sneaky, but she wouldn't leave this time without him knowing about it. He had Very Important Things to discuss.

Actually he just liked being in tight spaces like elevators with her. Not that he would tell her that. Except she had changed her shampoo from this mint one to this sort of strawberry something because the store didn't have her normal brand, or so she had told Abby, and he really, really didn't want her to change it back, so maybe he would tell her, but then he would have to explain how he knew she was going back to mint and why he didn't want her to go back, which would be so awkward and – ehy where was she?

Tony finished the sentence of the document and grabbed his coat and bag. "Later, Probie," and with that he dashed towards the closing elevator doors.

He stuck his arm between the now extremely narrow gap, and heard a surprised intake of breath inside. The door opened to reveal Ziva, leaning against the back wall. She gave him a curious glance, but said nothing as he nodded his head and walked in as if nearly chopping off his arm to get into the elevator was a normal experience for him.

Suddenly the elevator stopped. Tony looked at Ziva to find her leaning across to the front, switch under her deft fingers. Then she swung her back around and began to dig through it, till finally she pulled out an all green Chinese takeout box. Holding it out to him, she said "Happy holidays, Tony."

He blinked. "Wait. You said no Christmas presents."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "It is not a Christmas present, Tony." And then after a second. "Are you going to take it or not? My arm is getting tired."

He took the box, but was still very confused. Was this some sort of trick? A prank? And a part of him felt bad. He had nothing for her. He should have known she would have… but that's was so un-Ziva to get him anything… which led back to it being a prank… God she was frustrating.

"Are you going to open it?" She folded her arms and smirked at him. Her hair was so pretty. He wanted to reach out and feel it, but something told him she wouldn't like that.

He unfolded the top easily, and carefully began to pull at the tissue paper beneath. He heard Ziva turn the elevator back on, but continued to unwrap the gift without looking up. It was circular, and light, and…

It was an ornament, one of the nice ones, made out of that shiny glass that feels sort of rough, and on it, painted in bright gold, was the Star of David. "How did you know I have a Christmas – "

She was smiling wickedly at him, and he tilted his head with raised eyebrows and she took a step closer. And then, with antagonizing care, she leaned across towards him slowly till she was breathing in his ear and he could smell that strawberry shampoo so strongly and suddenly two very soft lips were pressed against his neck.

Pulling away, she glanced at her feet before glancing back up at him with the mischievous expression that sometimes scared the crap out of him. "What was that for?"

She grinned as the elevator doors open. "'Because I knew you wouldn't.'" And with that she was out the elevator, walking away from him, and he stood stunned where he was, till she turned around, eyes glinting and shoulders shrugging as if to say 'sorry I'm forgot.'

"You are not the only one who has seen _The Breakfast Club_, Tony!" She called out, before doing a semi-disturbing imitation of Ally Sheedy dancing, and skipped towards the door, arms flailing, head nodding, and looking so outrageously, beautifully bizarre Tony couldn't help but laugh.


	2. ALTERNATE ENDING

**Hey peoples! So I didn't intend on continuing this one-shot, but I was going through stuff on my desktop, and I found the *original* ending to my story. So its an "alternate ending" I guess.**

**ALSO: I currently have another Brat Pack referencing, cliché multi chapter fanfic going right now, called "Not Another Jet Lag Story!" – I know, I'm good at names. Review if you like what you read, please!**

**--**

As soon as Tim left, she waltzed over to Tony's desk and dropped a small box on it. Tony looked up from his computer. "What's this?"

Ziva waved her hand in the air. "Two for one deal," she said vaguely, before making her way to the elevator.

"Hey!" Tony cried out, standing up. "Is this a trick? A guilt trip or something? We said no Christmas presents!"

The doors open and she stepped half way in, and then turned, a small smirk across her face. "Happy holidays, Tony."

Tony glanced down at the box on his desk. It was small and covered in a shiny blue wrapper with a thin yellow ribbon around it. He pulled at the ends carefully, but in the end, he just made the knot larger. He finally just stole McGee's scissors and cut it, and the box top fell off. Tony pulled aside a small layer of tissue paper, and then smiled.

A delicate gold chain with a small Star of David sat atop a small wad of cotton.

Tony glanced across the bullpen to the empty desk. "What are we going to do with you, Ms Ziva David?" He tapped his pen on his lips and then leaned back in his chair.


End file.
